


Extraordinary

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Attempt at Humor, Gen, Humor, Random & Short, Slice of Life, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29462250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Rain City is definitely a different plane of existence. How often do you get to say “I’m a problematic demon that roams a city where it rains 4 days a week and a high school girl will be chased by an army of squirrels every now and then”?





	1. Counterfeit Money

“Excuse me, Miss.”

“Can I help you?”

It’s 3 in the afternoon on a Friday. I’m just buying my usual orange soda at the vending machine, until some random security guard had the audacity to bother me! I just wanna drink my soda in peace, it that too much to ask? Man, it’s like the sky and void gods just wanna make it harder for me. I already had a problematic day.

“So, lately,” he said, “we’ve been getting counterfeit dollars in the vending machines. An eyewitness said the culprit had red eyes and a red jacket, warm blue pants, and long neon orange hair,” he read on a notepad in his hand. “Have you seen anyone who fits the description?”

A quick shake of the head. “No.”

“Well, may I investigate your bag please? Just to make sure.”

Being given the bag, the security guard searched it, only to find a number of things you do not put in a school bag. Who puts parsley in their school bag?

“Okay, well, if you see anyone suspicious, report them to me.”

And with that, he left.

“Phew! Thanks for covering me, artist girl!” I popped out from behind the vending machines, a grape and orange soda in my hands.

The girl in school uniform rolled her eyes, holding her hand out. “Whatever. Give me my grape soda.”


	2. Time Management

“Do you really just sit here in the library and sketch all day?” I asked, lying on the table in the middle of the school library.

“No, sometimes I go to classes.” She sneered at me, to which I rolled my eyes.

I don’t have to stay at this jail that is school, I’m dead, but I got nothing else to do, so why not just pester Artist Girl and mess with students by making them think there’s a ghost haunting them? I get up from the table and look around, when I saw a student crying in front of the dystopia book section. Is he okay?

His phone started buzzing—I think it’s an alarm—and he just wiped his tears and walked out of the library like nothing happened! What the hell!?

“What the—”

Jikido interrupted me. “It’s called time management, Mika,” she said as she closed her sketch pad and got up from her chair.

Okay, but who adds crying onto their schedule!?

“Why? Don’t demons have crying time in the underworld?” Jikido questioned, “I thought they were miserable.”


End file.
